Becoming A Somebody
by puffpygmy
Summary: Harry's always been a worthless nobody. That's what he thinks, anyway. Having been recently paralyzed from the waist down, Harry is having trouble adjusting to his new life at Hogwarts. Sad, lonely, and harboring a dark secret, the only one that has chance of helping him just happens to also hate his guts.


As Harry wheeled himself towards the tattered old hat, he could feel hundreds of eyes trained on him – not that he wasn't used to the occasional lingering glances and pitying looks, but that he knew every single person in the Great Hall was looking right at him. It was because of this fact that he kept his focus solely on the hat, never pausing to look around.

It was when the tips of his shoes bumped the first of a short number of steps that Harry realized he wouldn't be able to get to the platform that housed the stool and hat without some help. Risking a glance upwards, he saw with relief that the Professor McGonagall woman was hurrying down the steps with the hat in her hands.

"Here you are, Mr. Potter. It would probably be best if you were Sorted down here, don't you think?" the older witch said while placing the old hat on Harry's head; a small, encouraging smile on her lips. As she took her hand away, a sudden voice made itself known in Harry's ear.

"Hmm.." said the voice. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes. You also have experienced the cruelty of this world far too soon and far too much for such a young child….yet it has given you a thirst to prove yourself; how interesting. But where to put you?"

All Harry could think about was the fact that Draco Malfoy, having made fun of Harry earlier on the train for the fact that he was in a wheelchair and could not move his legs, had been placed in Slytherin just moments ago. Harry gripped the arm rests on his wheelchair hard and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin_.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the Hat. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, its all here in your head, and Slytherin could help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you're sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Sighing in intense relief, Harry felt the hat being plucked off his head. Turning his wheelchair around to face the student tables, Harry was met with a sea of blank, and some quizzical, stares. Ashe began to wheel himself in the direction of the Gryffindor table there was a small smattering of applause, mostly from his own house, but a few others as well.

But – oh, no…how was he going to sit at the table with the others? There was no way he could sit on the bench and keep his balance, much less pull himself up from his wheelchair. Feeling his face heat up for what felt like the hundredth time that night, Harry self-consciously pulled up to the front end of the Gryffindor table; the only place where he could fit comfortably.

Harry distantly noted that the Sorting had continued, though he didn't bother to watch. For the remainder of the Sorting and all through dinner, Harry kept his eyes downcast – only focusing on the table in front of him. The students seated on either side of him had said nothing when Harry rolled up. They had given him a couple long glances, but no greetings, friendly or not, were passed his way.

So Harry sat in silence, picking bits and pieces from his plate – it was almost impossible for him to eat, what with the feeling of being watched constantly. That made his stomach feel a bit funny.

After what seemed to be forever, the announcement was made that dinner was over, and students were to return to their dormitories. The journey to Gryffindor Tower was almost more stressful for Harry as the Sorting had been – almost. Seeing as the Tower was on the seventh floor and Harry was in a wheelchair, the many flights of stairs necessary to reach it would prove to be impossible for him to maneuver.

Harry seemed to be not the only one with these thoughts, as at that moment he felt a hand on his shoulder. Harry turned his chair around to find a tall boy with red hair and freckles standing behind him. "You look as if you need to sprout a pair of wings there, Harry," said the older boy, giving him a genial smile. Harry returned it shyly with a small nod. "My name is Percy Weasley – I'm a Gryffindor Prefect." Percy stuck out his hand. Harry hesitantly took it and shook it gently. "I'm Harry Potter," he quietly replied.

"I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be up here any moment – she's not one to neglect her students." Right as Percy finished his statement, Harry head the distinct sound of heels clicking on the stone floor; turning his head towards the noise, he saw Professor McGonagall, indeed, walking briskly towards them. Coming to stand in front of the two boys, she addressed them.

"Hello again Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley."

"Hello, Professor," Percy answered. Harry nodded politely. "Now, Mr. Potter, it has come to the attention of the Headmaster and me, along with the other professors, that you will need some help getting to and from your classes," said McGonagall. Harry nodded. "We have devised a suitable solution though, hopefully…I assume you'd like to see it?" She continued. "Yes, please," Harry returned with a small smile. McGonagall motioned her hand at Percy. "Mr. Weasley, if you please?" Percy took the rear handles of Harry's chair and pulled him back from the staircase a bit.

Harry watched as Professor McGonagall unsheathed her wand. Muttering a series of incantations under her breath, a glowing line began forming on the stairs, close to 4 feet from the rail. A few seconds later, McGonagall motioned Harry over to her. "Why don't you go over to the foot of the stairs there, near the railing," she requested. Harry complied, and wheeled himself to the professor's desired destination. When he was directly in front of the stairs, McGonagall instructed him to move his wheelchair forward, as if to go up the stairs. _How in the world does she think __**that's**__ going to work?_ Harry thought. He complied though, cautiously.

The second his toes touched the first one, the stairs inside the glowing line began to move upwards and in on each other, very much similar to a Muggle escalator. On instinct Harry moved his chair forward a bit, just enough so that the tips of the wheels were barely on the edge of the stairs. Almost as soon as the two made contact, Harry felt himself – and his chair – being pulled up and over each individual stair step. Surprisingly, it wasn't at all bumpy. As he moved along, Harry chanced a backward glance – Percy was beaming up at him, and Professor McGonagall's lips were set in a small, satisfied smile.

When the last revolving step smoothly settled Harry at the top of the staircase, he wheeled himself around to face the professor and Percy again; he couldn't suppress the grin that quickly spread on his face. McGonagall and Percy were still smiling as well when they reached Harry at the top of the stairs.

The three of them went on up the staircases, the professor charming each of them as she had done the first. Harry, to put it simply, had a ball. Once they reached the Tower, McGonagall thought to charm the stairs to the boys' dormitories as well. After she bid the two goodnight and Percy had left after showing Harry to his room, he slid himself onto his four-poster bed. As he lay back against the soft sheets, one last coherent thought ran through his head before falling into a deep slumber – _I love magic._

ooooooo

**Hope I did these guys justice! And don't worry, Snape will make his appearance next chapter; I just wanted to use this first one to get through some of the issues presented by Harry's paralysis. **

**It would mean a lot if you could review; if not, thank you anyway for taking the time to read! :3**


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